


Last Ones out

by oonanoodle



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oneshot, Slightly intense make out scene 😳, developing feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27394672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oonanoodle/pseuds/oonanoodle
Summary: Sport is coming home with groceries and bumps into a friend.
Kudos: 3





	Last Ones out

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope those who see it enjoy it. This is an old piece

It’s late, and the sun had already set. It’s also beautiful outside, but no one really noticed that. It's almost as if everything stopped yet the wind refused to stay still. A cool lake is surrounded by assorted buildings and trees and a bridge sits over a part of the water.

Sport forgot why he was at the bridge so late at night. Possibly because there’s usually a loose crowd that’s easy to get lost in. But then he remembered why he walked all the way from his apartment. He was supposed to pick up food for tomorrow’s dinner. His mom wouldn’t be home for a few days because she had to work somewhere her coworkers had to meet up.

But again, the sky was too full, too wide to not stare into. It’s easy to get lost in something like the night sky, especially when it welcomes everyone with its cool refreshing colors. 

The sky dissolves the loud city noises and lights. It’s refreshing. Ever since Sport tried to actually do something good for others, He’s felt closer to the earth than he could remember. 

“When did I become such a sap…” Sport mumbled aloud. He looked down at his arms that were rested upon the bridge rail. They were weak and plain as usual. There wasn’t much good in his arms, he was sure they couldn’t hold anyone.

A gust of wind blew harsher than the rest. Sport flinched and looked to his left to avoid the wind getting in his face. He stumbled backwards.

Three feet away from him, There was a tall boy staring at the same sky as him. His was not visible at an angle where Sport could see him In detail. He was gazing at the same beautiful sky as him too.

Sport already knew that the boy was Grett. He stared at his back as always. He’s been afraid to face him for so long and he wasn’t brave enough to break that trend. 

So he just stood there. He didn’t move, make any sounds or do anything at all.

But it was no use. He was spotted, it wasn’t even that hard.

“Sport? Wait is that you? What a coincidence!”

He felt himself getting tingly and warm all over again. The all-too-familiar sensation that love gives has grown slightly aggravating. At this point, he wanted to break his stupid ignorant routine and at least try something else.

Was it too late? It didn’t seem like it.

Sport felt the need to glance at Grett’s happy brown eyes. He tried to find a glint of sadness and despair but he knows that he’s full of too much good and happiness. Where does it come from? It’s a mystery.

He looked stunning in the night, the wind stroking his jacket as his freckles popped out in the heavy lights. His smile wasn’t full, but it still was there. It was almost like he was muting out the city, just like the night sky. But unlike the sky, he wasn’t part of the scene and not a backdrop; he was human. Alive. And he was barely an inch away. 

The boys were trying to talk, but conversations don’t carry this close. Friends shouldn’t be this close. Only couples are allowed to be this close. 

“Why did you decide to come here so late? It’s actually 10:30. You shouldn’t be out so late.”

“Grett, you’re one to talk. I was running late-night errands.”

“It’s Thursday night! You should walk home now! ” Grett had a point. He was still being extremely hypocritical since he didn’t seem like he knew why he was out so late. Or anything.

Sport paused, and tried to say something decent. Something that wouldn’t come off as flirty, but it also wouldn’t sound horrible like always. Maybe he could just get him out of his mess.

“How about...how about we walk home. We should walk home together.”

The inch in between them grew larger as Sport jumped backwards. Grett released a little nervous laugh as he paced back too. They were about three feet apart again. Except now they couldn’t avoid each other any more. 

“S-sure!” Grett stammered. There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “We should walk. We need to get going.” 

So they did. The night sky began to lose its colors as they walked away from the bridge. Thankfully, it wasn’t rush hour so the traffic was decent. 

As the boys walked down 5th street, they avoided conversation. Was it even a good idea to walk together? It was unclear. 

As Sport stared at the little expensive shops nearby, he saw a girl and her boyfriend holding hands as they talked about whatever they wanted to. They seemed to always know what to say and when to laugh. They seemed happy. Was he happy? He knew that he couldn’t get expensive stuff for anyone, but he could hold a hand. Hand holding is romantic and it’s free. 

Sport and Grett stopped at a crossroad where the light still shines red. It was time to make a move. Or anything. Anything was better than staring away and hiding feelings away.

“I need to get something off my chest,” Grett quite quickly said, “it’s something about me. I just need to let you know more about me.”

Sport didn’t expect him to say something like that, but he allowed it. he accepted with a nod. Grett was right. He needed to know more. 

“I remember why I left Canada now. It was a nice place for friends. I wasn’t that popular, because I didn’t want to talk to anyone. It’s not that I didn’t hate them, I just never knew how to start a conversation.”

Sport couldn’t imagine a time where Grett wasn’t a talker. 

“I was also bullied in 6th grade. I don’t know why I was picked on. I think it was partially because of my name. That really sucked.”

Grett frowned as he blankly gazed at the traffic before him. Sport didn’t get why anyone would bully Grett, let alone insult him. He wanted to transport himself back in time and stand up for a sixth grader Grett. It seemed weird, but he wanted to do just that. 

The traffic signals began to switch from red to green. It was time to get to the other side. 

They began to walk the crosswalk, but Sport was lagging behind a bit. It was from some lack of energy, but it was hard to tell why. 

Grett knew that he’d just allow himself to get the cars to surround him, as if nothing happened.

So he reached behind and grabbed Sport’s hand, just so he wouldn’t leave him. He expected him to pull away as soon as they touched, yet he only felt his warm hand intertwined with his. 

===

They got to the end of the crossroad, hand in hand. It didn’t seem real. Even Sport’s off-frequency visions felt more plausible than this.

Is he really holding my hand? He is holding it. Very tight. 

This part of the street had significantly more trees than the other. Who’d bother planting trees where they couldn’t scatter their seeds? It made no sense. Sport checked to see if Grett decided to finally let go, because It wouldn’t be good for him if he held on. 

Spoiler alert: They were still hand holding. Except for now, it was relaxed.

—

Grett realized he made the mistake long ago. It wasn’t just the grasp, but when they found one another on the bridge so late at night. They both had about another mile to walk before they got home, so he would have to think of something Fast. 

“Sport, we should get on a bus, it’s late.”

“I spent all my money on late-night grocery shopping. We can’t get on it.”

He wasn’t used to the city yet. The dense traffic, heavy lights and loud noises were something to get used to. He grew up in a humble suburb in Ontario. This was practically nothing like that. He had a few friends, but no one as cool and funny as Nectarine or as smart and sweet as Chema. 

And then there was Sport. He was odd in a pleasant way. He couldn’t ever find the right words to describe him. It was slightly infuriating. Words aren’t easy. 

It was still late at night, but the night sky still had enough purple to be romantic, but not enough stars to inspire a poet. It was probably because of light pollution from the streetlights and cars. 

Grett looked back at Sport and noticed his left hand that was carrying four plastic grocery bags at once. It seemed to shake a bit from the weight attached to it. He knew that Sport was never very athletic and feared that his hand would be sore by the end of their walk. Their very sweet, awkward walk.

He also noticed that his expression was in between a pout and a slight smile. He couldn’t read him at all. 

Sport suddenly slowed down to a halt next to a bus stop bench. His hand seemed to sink down with his bags full of preheating boxes and other things. Grett tried to take away a bag. He missed by a lot, unfortunately. He grabbed his left hand, and they were now staring at each other. Sport tried to hide his feelings, but that was too hard. Stoic-Faced-Sport could wait another day.

“You don’t have to help me out,” Sport spat out. “I do this a lot. Almost twice a month. If it’s nice out, I’ll go to the bridge to look at the sky. I guess you may too.”

“Are you- are you kidding me? Your hand was trembling so much that I thought it would fall off your wrist! I’m helping you!”

For a second, Grett forgot that he was holding both of Sport’s hands. Sport had soft delicate hands while his were extraordinarily average. He looked up for a second and noticed that Sport was even less than an inch away from him. His eyes looked squinty underneath his glasses. 

“It’s late and I wanna go home but I would like to sit on this bench with you for a bit. That will help me.” 

So they did.

They were a little closer than before, their noses were practically touching. Grett honestly wouldn’t be surprised if they kissed now. He’s kissed several other people he liked, but it was always him who leaned in first. This was different.

Sport hummed a tune under his breath. It didn’t seem happy or sad. He wouldn’t be audible if they weren’t touching like this, but they were. Sport was still too hard to read. 

To Grett’s surprise, they didn’t really move. He would have to kiss him, mainly because backing up felt too late. If he didn’t, the night would end on the lowest of notes. He actually didn’t know why he wanted a kiss. It was probably just the romance of the sky. 

Before he knew it, there was absolutely no space in between them. It wasn’t clear who closed the gap, but it didn’t matter anyway. Sport’s lips were a little chapped, but they felt amazing against his. He felt him getting warmer as they continued to find new ways to kiss each other. He forgot what it felt to hold someone up this close, so it felt amazing. 

—

It may not seem like it, but Sport was absolutely panicking. He didn’t know why his hands were held, why he leaned too close in or why they were making out in the middle of the street. It wasn’t like he was complaining, he was just confused. 

Did this mean that Grett liked him too? He never thought about it like that. He didn’t know if this was better or worse for him to know that love has blinded him into doing all this. He should’ve ignored the bridge. He knew this wasn’t supposed to happen, so he broke apart from Grett’s embrace. Gasping for air, he ran away as fast as he could manage, holding two groceries in one hand. He didn’t say anything, not even a goodbye. It was too early for this. He didn’t feel ready yet.

—

Still on the bus-bench, Grett watched the cars roll down the city street. He was sure that Sport hated him now, and he deserved the hate. He couldn’t tell why Sport leaned forward and stared anyway.

Why else would he move that close? 

Grett released a long, heavy sigh as he peered down at his lap. He wish he didn’t scare him away like that. spotted a lot of junk underneath and two plastic grocery bags by himself too. 

It was too late to get Sport, anyway. Grett had to drop them off at his door. There was a problem; he didn’t know where his home was. 

So he got off the bench, and walked home by himself, lacking the same energy he had when Sport was there. 

Then it hit him. He liked Sport. No, scratch that, he was in love with him. He didn’t know what to do with his feelings, and he wished he could read people. He wished that he could read himself, too.

—

When Sport arrived home, he didn’t know what to feel anymore. He still felt the taste of Grett’s lips on his. He wanted more of it, but he was unsure if he could get another kiss. 

He saw Nectarine writing something up on her computer. Her jade eyes weren’t as expressive as usual. Nectarine would crash on his couch just because she could. He wondered if she had issues at home since this apartment wasn’t better than her townhome at Morning Street.

“Hi Sport.” She looked down at the bags in his hands. “Weird. I thought you were going to bring more back.”

Grett probably had the other half of groceries, and he didn’t have the guts to get them. 

===  
“Wait. He kissed you? On your lips? On a bench?”

“Yeah, I dunno why he did it.”

Nectarine gave Sport a lost look. She was too tired to think about anything other than the paper she was working on, but this was something else.

“Sport, I don’t give the best romantic advice, but I think that he had a reason.” 

Sport was very out of it. He was guessing that Grett was too. Memories of the walk back home still lingered within, and it didn’t make any sense. Anyway, he never kissed anyone before that special incident. He was sure that Grett wouldn’t even care.

“Nectarine, Grett wouldn’t even care! That was a special incident!”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he kiss you? Kissing is specifically reserved for romance.”

She had a point. Nectarine always has a point. 

Nectarine sighed. “I’ve known Grett since I was twelve, even though we were just internet-friends. Chema never knew him only because she would never talk to strangers. She’s reasonable that way. If there’s anything you should know about him, it’s that he sometimes doesn’t know how to use his words.”

As Nectarine lazily flopped back onto the couch, Sport began to worry about the second half of his food. He didn’t have any noodles to heat up, which wasn’t good. He then proceeded to plant his head into the couch.

“You’re not going to bed, Sport?” Muttered Nectarine. She looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks, but she managed to keep a small smile on her face.

“I’m sorry about dropping the groceries or whatever, Nectarine. We’ll just have a mediocre soupless salad tomorrow.” 

At this point, they might as well be legal siblings again after how often Nectarine would sleep over at the Raventorch’s. It wasn’t like that was going to happen, because that wouldn’t make any logical sense. They had their own guardians anyway. 

As the two tired teens stared at the ceiling, the LOUDBIRD notification went off several times on Nectarine’s phone.

Nectarine picked up her phone, and read some desperate texts. She smiled, even though she was tired.

“Hey, you may want to see this.”

“Oh my god…”

Mini Hellhole  
Session 534

hoodie: HEY!

hoodie: do you know where Sport lives? He left two bags by the bench after we

hoodie: uhh

hoodie: did friend stuff?

hoodie: yeah! I thought that he would be worried about it. I want to drop it off, but I don’t know where to. 

fruitcake: do you kiss all of your friends on a bench late at night?

hoodie: thedmthutmfmhdnssgnrsgfnbdfnfd dc mdjtdgrjshtehfhdhtck

hoodie: how tf did he tell you already!?

fruitcake: I crashed at his place again 

hoodie: o h. Should’ve known 

hoodie: please share your location… I’m not going to interrogate everyone in the city

fruitcake: no problem, we’ll be hungry if you don’t 

————————————-

Some kind of nervous energy consumed Sport.

“What?? You can’t just tell him where I live! Now he’s going to want to visit here! Probably all the time! You know I’m not ready for this!”, Sport spat out, but didn’t actually yell. 

“I just don’t want to have an empty stomach tomorrow,” Nectarine countered. “I also know that I cannot cook to save my life.”

She was right, it’s never good to end a long week hungry. Especially after how hard they worked, either awake or asleep. 

As usual, Aori had several tasks laid out for them like traveling to far off borders to see if the blend ever ended or learning some important morals from Nocturn. Now, they didn’t know what was more relaxing anymore. They had free time, but that was reserved for early dawn. In retrospect, it was becoming more challenging to find time to properly chill. 

The doorbell rang, and both Nectarine and Sport went tripping over themselves to answer it. When they opened up the door, a breathless Grett stood before the siblings. He was covered in sweat, his eyes weren’t open very wide at all and he held two grocery bags out in front of him. 

“Please… just take them. I’ll go home,” breathes Grett hastily. He sounded ridiculously out of it.

Sport stared at Grett again. It was nothing like how he stared at him at the bench, but it was something. He wanted to tell him something important, but without saying anything. It was mainly because his sister was standing right next to him. 

It was kind of hard to tell someone that it’s okay to crash at my home with your eyes, so Sport had to verbally tell him instead. It wasn’t easy, but he couldn’t bear to have Grett walk back in this state. 

Sport turned to look at Nectarine. She looked pretty done with everything. That’s all.

“Hey Grett. Thank you so much for the groceries. But please don’t go home to sleep. Sleep here instead.”

Grett’s exhaustion was replaced with relaxation as his brain processed what Sport had said. 

“All right… where do I sleep?”

“Well, you can sleep in either my mom’s room or mine,” Sport muttered. He wished he didn’t make his own bed an option. 

“It’s considered bad form to sleep in your friend’s mother’s bed, so I guess I’ll sleep with you.”

Why the hell would he pick that? He probably made that etiquette form himself. 

Sport’s face would’ve gone red hot, but he was too tired to even get flustered. He was also far too tired to complain. 

Nectarine, on the other hand was far too tired to do anything, so she just fell flat onto the sofa and immediately dozed off.

“I guess we’re going to sleep together,” Sport declared sluggishly. After Grett kissed him on the bench, Sport honestly stopped caring. He was still unsure about how they might feel about each other and how others may think of them.

After an awkward pause, Grett released an enormously long yawn that made Sport release a tiny laugh.

“We should go to bed. Now,” Grett exclaimed in a ruddy tone. It was almost like he was anxious to sleep.

+++

As a few minutes passed, Sport and Grett were in the same bed, but they were faced to the walls. It was kinda like they were avoiding each other, but it was more of an act of respect. It was a dumb act of respect, since Grett was one hell of a sleep cuddler. He always needed something to hold onto and usually it was a pillow.

By then, Grett was asleep. His breathing filled the room with a new feeling that hasn’t been in this room before. It was a soft, yet full feeling that wasn’t easy to replace.

Sport was too busy thinking about Grett to fully sleep. It pained him a little too much. How would he carry on through the night like this anyway? Nothing really seemed right about this.  
He wished that he let Grett take the bed while he would’ve found a cozy spot on the carpet and nodded off there. He would be able to sleep better that way. 

After Sport’s idea faded away, he felt a long, warm arm caress him. Grett’s sleep cuddle mode had fully kicked in, and there was no escape out of Grett’s freckled arms. 

Instead of keeping Sport awake, it numbed his thoughts for a bit until he collapsed into sleep.

===  
“BRRRRRIIIINNNGGGGG!! BRRRRRIIIINNNGGGGG!!”

Sport’s alarm went off. He forgot why he set it so loud. He reached to turn it off, but he couldn’t move it. His entire right arm was asleep. 

The second thing he noticed was that Grett was still holding him. How was that even possible? 

Sport decided to immediately leave his room, it was a Friday. 

But as soon as he tried to get himself out of bed, Grett muttered out, “Hey, it's an institution day! Why did you set your Alarm? We don’t need to be up yet.”

I don’t know if I’m lucky or unlucky, Sport thought. This situation was good because he wouldn’t have to get himself and Grett ready for school. On the flip-side, he had to deal with Grett at six in the morning. 

“Sport, since I knew today was going to be an out day, I wanted to do something with my night. Wasn’t expecting to see you, though.”

Grett’s hands were still holding his back. It almost seems he stopped caring about space. Sport was still too afraid to ask about why any of this was happening. He was just too afraid to ask anything. But he had to, and It all scared him. 

Cities are weird in the morning. It’s when the city turns on lights, starts up its engines, but isn’t full of life yet. If Sport actually had lived in the central section, he wouldn’t be able to sleep (yes, his sleep schedule is bad but he wouldn’t be able to at all).

“Also Sport, don’t you pay attention to the announcements? Everyone was excited for today, and they made it obvious with their Thursday plans.”

Sport still remained silent. He didn’t know if it was that he felt dumb for not listening to the announcements or constant chatter or if it was that Grett was holding onto his limp, asleep arm. If he was lucky, his arm would be awoken by him.

“Haha, you have a noodle arm,” Grett whispered into Sport’s hair. “ It’s like there’s no bones...”

As the shorter boy felt his face heat up, he could feel Grett’s face pressed into the back of his head. 

Idiot, don’t make me feel this way when almost everything is unresolved!

“Grett,” Sport started, “I have a crush on you, and you’re not helping anything. You’ve only used actions to display anything, and it’s ticking me off.”

Sport used the energy to turn his head to the freckled boy. He expected Grett to look shocked, or dumbfounded. Instead, he only saw his eyes lit up underneath the dark lighting. Sport lost his train of thought as he realized how close they were. When it was on the bench, it was only their faces that touched; now it was almost everything. 

“Sport, I’ve also had a crush on you for awhile. It’s only been yesterday since I’ve actually realized that It was romantic and not platonic.”

Sport stifled a chuckle. This was too funny; he thought only love made him dumber. At the same time, Sport already knew that Grett was a supreme idiot. 

“Hey Grett?”

“Yeah Sport?”

“Wanna go back to sleep? It’s too early to be up.”

“Sure. I don’t know why not. I can use a little more sleep myself.”

Great, now they made it awkward to fall asleep again. Even though both Sport and Grett admitted their feelings, not everything was resolved. 

Sport moved his arm to grab his phone, but It was kind of hard to move his arm when he and Grett were so close. Instead, he shut his eyes and tried to go to sleep. 

Just when he thought he could go back to sleep and forget his situation, Sport felt a soft kiss on his forehead. It was just a peck, but he was able to notice it.

Sport fluttered his eyes open as he felt his face heat up. It’s too early for this, dumbass. He then began to giggle a little bit.

It was now Grett’s turn to be flustered. 

“Your laugh! It’s adorable, and I wouldn’t have expected it.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t expect.”

In what seemed like no time, Sport grasped Grett’s cheeks. 

“I’ve always wanted to touch your freckles, they remind me of the stars. I’ll count them all if I have to.”

“I- I don’t even know how many I have.”

“That’s because it’s my job to count them, stupid.”

Sport pulled Grett’s face into his, and the two melted into a kiss. It was kind of a bad start since it was a surprise, but they both picked up to a good pace. 

Sport hungrily bit Grett’s lip, and he burned up in return. To counter that move, Grett left a trail of heavy kisses starting from Sport’s cheek and ended at his nape. Every little kiss sent a shiver straight down Sport’s spine. 

He might just combust with all of the feverish energy flowing within him. 

To get him back, Sport grabs Grett again. To spice things up a bit, Sport lodges his tounge into Grett’s mouth. Sport has never done this before, so he was afraid of ruining this moment.

To the smaller boy’s surprise, Grett grabbed his back and lets his tongue slide into his mouth. The disasters continued to crash hungrily and lovingly together. Well, until they couldn’t take it anymore. If it weren’t for they might’ve gone on forever.

Grett had to break apart to catch air. Sport legitimately forgot about air until he had to resurface. Hastily, he searched for his phone and glasses on his nightstand.

“Oooh, shit! Are you sure that this was your first time? You make out like a feral animal!” Grett instantly wished he didn’t say that in the tone he did.

“Honestly, I’ve just been touch-starving myself for nearly three years.”

“Three years? Wow. That’s some dedication to be crushing on an idiot like me for that long.”

“I’m going to check the time. We should spend the day together.”

Grett remembered his parents. He feared if they would ask him where he was, who he was with and when he’d be back.

“Yo,” Sport tilted his head quizzically. “You alright there?”

“I don’t know if we can spend the day together. My parents are strict a whole lot, and I sometimes sneak out with some of my friends. I’m sure they’ll flip when they find out I’ve made out with a guy.”

The truth is, his parents weren’t extremely homophobic, (just have it internalized from their past) but he was sure that they would ghost him if he ever came out as not-straight or whatever he was. It would be a mess. 

“Grett, I’m here for you. Okay?” Sport sat down next to him on the mattress. “How much time can we spend together anyway?”

“I wish it could be forever, but with the way our world works, we should have a solid five hours.”

“That’s great.” Sport places a soft kiss on Grett’s cheek. “Should we walk somewhere?”

“Yes!”

+++


End file.
